Black Diamond Bay
by Echante
Summary: Mark asks Addison to leave her husband...


A/N: I was in a poetic mood. Just warning you this is not the happiest story.**

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**Black Diamond Bay**

"Upon the white verenda, she wears a necktie and a Panama hat..."

He finds himself there often lately, staring at the world across the street in contemplation of a life that isn't his to have. She undresses and he watches her silhouette, examines it closely. She knows he's watching. He always is, always will be. He has his own girl in his bed, and the moonlight presses against her bare ass turning her skin milky white, whispering in blatant seduction. The grandiose clock that once hung on his wall lies smashed and dejected on the floor; he'd grown tired of time, it kept passing him by.

_They walk hand in hand along the dirt road and he looks over at her, smiling gently. She smiles at something else in the air, her eyes flick back and forth between the butterflies and the trees. She catches his gaze with her own and giggles, squeezing his hand tighter. "It's a whole different world here Mark," she tells him, bouncing eagerly. _

_He kisses her on the forehead, and smirks at she swats him for tipping off her Panama hat, "It is," he agrees after a few moments and laughs, "It's like nothing ever happened. The past disappears."_

_"I think the sunlight cures all ails," she says poetically and he laughs at her attempt at wisdom._

_"I think you cure all my ails," he tells her and she blushes but a smile tugs on the corner of her lips. _

_"What time is it?" She asks suddenly and he checks his watch before tapping it several times. He frowns._

_"I think it stopped."_

_She sighs, "Oh well, I'm tired, let's sit down."_

_He agrees readily and they sit side by side, laughing once again as her hat falls back onto her shoulder._

_"I should have bought you a smaller one," he muses quietly._

_"I like this one," she pouts, "and it's only a little bit big."_

_He kisses her and she pulls him in, long arms wrapping around his already graying hair. He winces as the coolness of her ring presses against his neck and she pulls back, frowning._

_"It's a nice ring," he says, presenting the distance between them, glancing hopefully at her, willing her to disagree._

_She nods, "Cost him a fortune."_

_"I'll bet," he replies with a gulp._

_She shakes her head and tells him what he wants to hear, "It's not enough," she says fervently, "it'll never be enough."_

_He kisses her again._

To her left, the twisted skeletons of the trees whistle softly, low and chilling; to her right the blinding flashes of city lights twist into something sinister. He tries to tear his gaze away but it doesn't obey him anymore. There's a stinging in his eyes and a quivering in his lips. He wishes he could turn back time.

He'd had thought he was a distrusting man; he'd made her work for awhile. But he flashed his cards to her one stormy night, and he gave himself readily.

He's not a praying man, the cigarette in his hand and the sin on his lips paint it clearly, but today he stoops and knees himself down. "God," he says with a trembling sigh, "Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change," it is all he asks for, he's given up on all else.

There isn't a man beside her tonight, he thinks she must be lonely, but she'd rather curl up, miserable and cold than admit the end. He's waiting for her will to fail.

_He can hear her footsteps, ancient and familiar in his mind. Her hair materializes first and she closes the door behind her, throat closed up, eyes squeezed shut. He frowns his concern and pulls her to him, twisting his fingers into her soul and massaging her fears. "Cry for me Addy," he says softly, "just cry."_

_And she does, the broken chokes of her sorrow penetrate his heart, he isn't sure what to do but he cradles her for awhile. The flow of tears stop and she gets up without a sound. The clock ticks loudly and painfully slow. "When did we leave Eden?" She asks him softly, "When did we leave?"_

_And she doesn't ask for a specific date or time, she just shakes her head, back and forth wondering, "When did we fall from grace?"_

_"When we bit into the apple," he says, knowing the answer, "and tasted sin and found it good."_

_"I used to know him so well," she gazes into the distance, staring at the seconds, "I used to be able to talk to him."_

_"Fluency fades when you don't speak for awhile," he tells her and she nods._

_"You know me too well," she attempts a smile._

_But he doesn't take what's offered, he tries to be selfish and it fails him, "I don't know you well enough!" He protests, "Please," he begs, "we can leave, he only makes you miserable, we can go wherever you please, we can search for a garden, we can disappear."_

_She sighs and shakes her head, "Do you remember that time, when the three of us went cliff diving, and I stood in the middle as we fell hand in hand?"_

_He nods._

_"I love you," she tells him softly, "but I have to love him more. He's my husband; I need him by my side."_

_So he lets her go, he shakes his head and releases her not bothering with his accusing words. 'If you keep this up,' he wants to scream, 'you'll be alone.' But he doesn't because he can't. _

_The clicking of the second hand pounds faster and faster and faster until the beating in his skull is too much to bear and he opens a bottle of whiskey, and tries to forget._

Blood drips slowly onto the snow, there's a coffin at the end of the street. He can see himself opening it. In the casket lies a widowed bride, a smile graces her even in death. His dreams invade him to this day. He slowly watches it haunt his path.

His eyes open and the scene slowly fades, he sighs his relief and checks the time. The clock stopped at midnight and that's all he knows, he groans his aggression and sighs.

The phone pierces his quiet abyss, and the body lying on the bed rolls onto her back breathing in and out peacefully. He grabs at the ringing and raises it to his ear, pressing 'speak.'

"Hello," is the whispered greeting and she supplements it with a casual word, "What're you doing?"

He shakes his head because he knows she knows, but he gives the lie anyway, "I was trying to sleep." He tries to sound agitated instead of hopeful but his effort is in vain.

"I'm sorry," she says, a crack in her voice, "it gets lonely in this house."

He wants to growl at her for hurting him so, he wants to tell her she doesn't need to be lonely, but instead he settles for, "Do you want me to come over?"

There's silence on the phone and a sob on the line so he knows without her speaking that she's nodding. "Give me five minutes," he tells her, pulling on a pair of sweats and running his fingers through his hair, "I'll be right there."

_She finds him in the crowd and smiles at him, pulling him into a hug, "I'm proud of you," she whispers, "I'm so proud."_

_He moves to kiss her but she shakes her head, "Don't," she says softly, "They'll talk."_

_"So let them talk," he smiles brightly, innocently, "They're not your friends."_

_"I'm married," she reminds him, "Do you want Derek to know? He's your best-friend."_

_He shakes his head, "You're my best-friend," he tells her but he lets it go and she smiles, "Let's go get drunk." She tells him and he laughs, following her lead. He'd take her anywhere, as long as she was pleased. _

_"I'm happy when you're here with me," she tells him but he knows that it isn't entirely true, "I feel like I'm always nervous unless I'm here with you."_

_He doesn't respond but grips her tighter, trying to make her his. Failing._

_"I'm here for you," he tells her instead, "always."_

_She grins brightly, "Forever and ever."_

_He hesitates and agrees, "Forever and ever."_

She's relieved when he enters the door and she runs to him, kissing him passionately, whispering 'thank-you,' into his shoulder.

He pushes her away and she stares at him, "You had sex tonight." She accuses.

"It didn't mean anything," he shrugs.

She frowns, "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" He snaps at her and she recoils and he's immediately sorry.

"God baby," he hugs her, "I didn't meant to scare you. I didn't mean to do that… I'm sorry… It's just sometimes this whole thing gets to me."

"It's fucked up," she agrees and buries her face into his arms, "someday," she tells him and it gives him hope, "someday I'll have the courage to leave him."

He doesn't reply to her blatant lie, instead he kisses her thoroughly and she moans, fingering at the bottom of his shirt. He pushes her blouse over her head and she responds in kind, planting kisses along his bare chest. It stings where she touches him.

They don't hear the keys jingle or the front door squeaking open, she's too busy trying to forget and he's too busy trying to blow her mind.

She gasps and she moans his name and the bedroom door clicks, and the light turns on. She freezes. But it's too late, the bullet has already taken aim and Derek is shot straight between the eyes. "Get out," he growls, "Get the fuck out of my house." Mark hesitates but Addison doesn't look at him so he obliges.

Five months go by and he savors the minutes, trying to roll them slowly across his tongue. He knows that her smiles are too fake and her voice is too high but he tries not to listen or to look. He is briefly fulfilled and it's a beautiful sight.

The widow comes to him in the night and whispers advice in his dreams, 'Catch and release,' she says to him, 'Catch and release.'

He takes another woman into their bed and releases her. She readily goes.

There's a coffin on the edge of his path and he stops and opens it, slipping in. He smiles to himself as the people pass. They wonder what made him give in. But he lies there for awhile, his eyes closed, shut tight, and eventually, the dreams come again and he loses his smile. So he climbs out and they'll wonder how he escaped the clutch of death but he knows that she pulls him out of the tomb, out of the grave and he's doomed to the misery of broken love, of tainted love, for the rest of his life.

The clock rewinds itself and sets him straight; he resumes his search for Eden.


End file.
